


Oh how selfish of myself to always say that it was more than I could take

by milliondollarbum



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Breathplay, F/F, Girl Direction, Louis-centric, apathetic, basically a story about growing up as a girl, everyones fucked up, girl!Harry, girl!Louis, girl!Niall, indifference, kids don't work out your problems like louis is doing, louis and niall are twins, mention of eating disorder rape alkis abuse self harm etc just casual teenage shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:03:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5756446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milliondollarbum/pseuds/milliondollarbum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> Harry laughes, “You aren’t alive, you are just not dying."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s the same in the end.” Louis moves to sit on Harry's tights, “No one has a reason for living, everyone just pretends and smiles, shrugs it away; then we drink and fuck away our feelings little by little.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s just you, you are just bored and wants to pass time.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And yet you are the same, trying to find something to help you pass your time until death comes.” </em>
</p><p>Or: Fucked up kids who refuses to believe they are depressed, living life with too much self hatred and alcohol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh how selfish of myself to always say that it was more than I could take

  
**I: Everything seems so easy, my friend, yet it’s so incomprehensible hard**   
  
It’s weird, Louis thinks, that if you would write a biography about her, she would never be the main character. It was her twin, Niall, that would get all focus. And Louis was okay with it, used to it. She was a star, she was perfect, but she would never be a main character in her own life.   
  
Niall would be the protagonist. Niall is interesting, Niall is beautiful; Niall is the one with 300likes on facebook and instagram. Louis is her twin, the one who never gets any attention. And if she gets any, it’s from Nialls male friends who wants to fuck with her. With Niall.   
  
Everything that happens around Louis, is somehow connected to Niall, the main character.   
  
And it’s okay. She will always be the sidekick, the background character. It’s okay. How much she fucks up, she will never be on Niall’s level. It’s a comforting thought. Another thought comes in, maybe she’s already way above Niall’s level.   
  
She wants to write her own story, with herself as the main character. She want to be someone.   
  
  
  
Growing up, they never had many friends. It was Niall and Louis, Louis and Niall. They were twins, so of course they loved each other, they were each other’s best playmates.   
  
And it was scary when they moved out from their big villa in the forest, to an even bigger villa in the outskirt of London. It was okay, they had a big yard. They had a pool instead of a lake. It was fine, they could still play.   
  
Louis took the biggest room for herself, and it was always where they were playing with their big and awesome dinosaurs and barbie dolls.   
  
Then they started preschool, which was nice. Now it was Niall and other girls and boys in her room, playing different games.   
  
And so it went on, and on. Niall became friendlier with the guys, getting this tomboy classification. Louis shrugged, she was fine where she was with her pretty skirts and dresses, playing house and children games.   
  
Niall and Louis, Louis and Niall. The Tomlinson Twins. Niall was almost like a boy, always walking around in baggy clothes and trousers. Louis was a princess with her flowery skirts and long hair.    
  
The teacher always joked how they never could tell them apart if it wasn’t from their clothes, even if their face and hair was completely different.   
  
  
  
  
Everything changed in Year 7. They were the big kids now.    
  
Niall laughed it off, fooling around with her guy friends while putting more and more makeup on everyday.   
  
Louis ignored it, she didn’t see any different from last year. Sure all her girl friends and twin started to use makeup but she didn’t care. She was comfortable in her tight clothes and skirt.   
  
Niall was sitting with James and the other boys, talking about SSBB and fifa, while Louis was seated next to El and all the other girls, talking about whatever they have done through the summer break.   
  
“Okay, class! Sit down now, I know how interesting summer break have been, but let’s try to focus about how you all are big kids know! You are to set an example to the younger students, so don’t do anything stupid now,” Their teacher continued on. They were 13 now, it’s so amazing how old they are already.   
  
Niall and Barbara have become best friends over the break, always talking about this and that. Louis was somewhat familiar with her, mostly just exchanging small talk when Niall was at the toilet. It was weird how they suddenly was at Niall's room all the time, while her and El was in her big room, or jumping on the trampoline.   
  
Barbara’s family situation was shit but still lovely. She had split parents and lived in an apartment with her wonderful mother, who was working all the time.    
  
Niall and Barbara was grateful -- suddenly they were always there drinking and smoking.   
  
Louis was in her own big room. She still had lots of friends, but it hurted to be separated from Niall, hell, they have never even been two days away from each other.   
  
And so it continued. Niall was still a tomboy with perfect makeup on and lowcut shirts, and best friend with Barbara. Always boys inside their apartment, always new ones.   
  
Louis came and went as she wished, it was only two bus stop from their home. She was her own social self as they smoked and drank, never knowing how Niall had talked to them before how she’d castrate them if they ever touched her.   
  
And so Year 7 went by, drinking and smoking things they wasn’t even sure how they could get.    
  
Louis and Niall was still stuck in the little city, never venting into London or far away. They were home where they were, where everyone was rich and white and straight, where everyone was the picture perfect with large yards.   
  
Their friends was their classmates and neighbors, and everyone was the same, bland, but different.    
  
  
  
Year 8 was the big breakthrough.   
  
Niall became a woman. Or a pre woman, in any case. She had a boyfriend in the year above them, Erik.   
  
Louis was still trapped in her childhood, Sure she have smoked weed and drank weekly, but she herself was comfortable with playing with her dolls. She hated to shop for bras, even though she already had the biggest breast in the class.   
  
And Niall protected her through it all. All guys would look at her twin, at Louis, objectify her for her breast. Niall didn’t give a fuck that Louis had D and she only B, she didn’t care about her breast size at all. But as soon as anyone looked at Louis, Niall would be there to beat the _fuck_ out of them.   
  
No one touched her twin.   
  
The cheap polish vodka was still in the picture, same as the red chesterfields and weed.   


  
  
They were 14 and was slowly drifting apart. Niall was the head girl, the queen of their small school. Louis was the bookworm, the girl with A’s and B’s.    
  
Where in Niall went to parties constantly with Barbara, Louis prefered to read a book, and talk to new friends who shared her interest.   
  
Louis didn’t know when, but it was in history as they were arguing about Russia and America, North and South Korea. While she was working some simple mascara on her flawless skin, arguing how Russia and North Korea was better with ridiculous arguments that she still somewhat selled and won; Niall didn’t even try to argue how the west germany was in the wrong. She was giggling and pushing up her small in squeezed breast up her guy friends faces.    
  
She didn’t even _try_ even though she had the simplest part. Louis frowned, covering her enormous F-sized breast. She hated them, she didn’t want them, she wanted to play around and argue about history and religion. She didn’t want to grow up.   
  
Growing up meaning becoming like Niall and Barbara. She didn’t want to.   
  
Yet, she continued to go to the parties, she continued to drink and give half assed hand jobs to guy who never gave anything in return. Louis didn’t get it, she never got why Niall went to this shit. It was boring.   
  
But it was okay, she had her own friends nowadays, who like her enjoyed movied and the occasionally cheap vodka.   
  
And one night under the stars, she, Jasmine and Hannah did it. Well, as good as three 14-years old could to a threesome. They never spoke about it after.   
  
Louis never counted it as losing her virginity, losing a virginity was only when a dick penetrated her, right? So she was straight, and that was it. It was only some fooling around with friends. It meant nothing.   
  
14 was big for Louis, she did have her first female threesome, she gave out handjobs and swallowed some dudes cock. She drank way more than last year, and smoked too much. And, Niall, Niall was becoming a trainwreck already.   
  
14 was also the big year they started to take the bus into the city, London. Where people were different and it was such a culture shock --- but not at all at the same time.    
  
Niall and Barbara meet more people, went to more parties all over the city. Louis joined whenever she wanted, but London was the start for her.   
  
In London, in a rundown record store she meet Nick Grimshaw and their friendship flourished, meeting his friends. The parties they held wasn’t like the ones she was used to -- it was sitting down and drinking cheap beer while listening to vinyls and talking pretentious bullshit. It was where she met Harry.   
  
In London where were Louis found her new best friends.    
  
  
  
And so it continued through year 9, Louis and Niall continued to party and have fun. No one asking Louis out even with her curvy body, her F-sized boobs.   
  
Anyone who even looked at Louis, answered to Niall, the queen of the school.   
  
Niall protected Louis in school, as Louis protected Niall at home.    


  
  
Sometimes, Niall wished she never had protected her innocent this much, maybe nothing would have ever happened then.   
  
Sometimes, Louis wishes she would have been more mature, so she could have helped Niall when she really needed it.   


  
  
_ Her parents are upstairs, screaming, fighting again, over something ridiculous as usual. Niall is in the bathroom crying as usual. Louis closes her eyes, and little by little she closes off. And everything is fine. _   
  
  
  
  
**I.v: I picked you out of a crowd and talked to you**   
  
See the thing is; Harry was amazing, prodigy, a godsend. The teachers said of her when she was young. Her mother was ecstatic, and being the smart kid she was, she was always the one raising her hand, answering questions, and getting extra problems.   
  
When she looks back, she thinks that the biggest problems was those extra exercises. _‘She’s on a complete another level from the other kids,’_ shouldn’t make the teacher give her harder questions, it should make her think, use her brain.   
  
Her mother, Anne, was just so happy for her that she couldn’t let her down.   
  
Year 7 she started to say fuck it, it wasn’t worth it. Retarded stupid people had the same grades as her. There wasn’t a point in even trying. It started small with forgoing studying.    
  
It became worse as the year went one, skipping more lessons than going, hanging out with the bad crowd.   
  
“Ah you’re thirteen hazza and still a virgin? How ridiculous!” Aiden laughed with her. Three years older and Harry have no idea how they are even friends. Probably the shitty weed and her always empty apartment.    
  
Harry shrugged and took a hit, “Well, genius child and all that,” she exhaled the thick smoke and made a somewhat recognisable waterfall, “Didn’t have time to fool around.”   
  
“Look at this, out precious little _‘genius child’_ out smoking and drinking!” Aiden laughted and hitted Nick in the shoulder to get his attention.   
  
Nick rolled his eyes, “You can’t be a genius at thirteen you dumb fuck.”    
  
Harry shrugged and passed the blunt to the taller man, “I’m probably smarter than you junkies put together, say when was the last time you wrote an essay or even counted four plus one?”    
  
They laughed, they fucked, they got too high. This was her new life.    


  
  
Harry’s family is poor, she can barely pay for her school books and she’s awkward. Everything is fucking shit and it’s the end of the world.   
  
Like some goddamn young adult novel.    
  
She was 14 and on top of the world, the drugs and friend was the same, gathering at someone's house and scraping together enough money to buy the cheapest drugs.   
  
Then Louis Tomlinson entered her world of black and white and added colors with her reckless acting and beautiful laughing. She was so experienced yet so innocent, an odd combination that just pulled her in.    
  
The drugs and alcohol stayed through their adventures, their train trips to nowhere, anywhere, their summer runaways in the forest of dreams and fairies.   
  
Louis turned her world upside down, everything she was familiar with became _Louis, Louis, Louis._   
  
Her half assed dreams and ambitions, her family and friends slipped down the drain.   
  
Her world became Louis.   
  
  
  
  
**II: yet I guess nothing in this world was easy to understand**   
  
They are eighteen, and the only thing they learned from school was procrastination and self hatred.   
  
They are of legal age, they are the prettiest girls in the whole world; Niall with her model thin body and Louis with her curves.    
  
Twins are never identical, yet Louis and Niall couldn't be farther from each other. But they were still best friends, the only one there.   
  
Over the years, Niall have had her boyfriends, and Zayn had been with her for almost a year. Louis didn't even know of the word love.   
  
_ “They ruined us, fucked us up pretty good didn’t they?” Niall says, her eyes on the phone looking for people to go out with.   
  
Louis huffed out air, as an imitation of laugh, “They turned us into art, a masterpiece.” _   
  
  
  
"Join me for a fag before going back to the others?" Louis asked as she pulled her lacy panties over her arse, and did she thank her prior self for choosing to wear a tight dress; as she sees Harry struggling with her tight white pants.   
  
"Yea sure, I'll text Nick and ask if he'll join." She said and pointed up to the roof, indicating how the others were on the balcony of John Scott.   
  
Louis rolled her eyes, "Fuck it, we'll smoke with the others."   
  
They stumbled out of the handicap bathroom and went to the bar on the 2nd floor buying another bottle of chevron.   
  
"Man, I still can't get over that you're buying wine with me, babe." Louis said as they went up another round of stairs.   
  
"While my love for beer is unbeatable, wine is a much smarter choice when you're out." Harry said back, playing around with the fashionable holes in jeans.   
  
Louis huffed and dragged her to the bar on the fourth floor, ordering her some ipa beer she knows she loves.   
  
"You didn't have to." Harry said, looking bashful.   
  
"Nonsent! I have more than enough money to spend on alcohol, cigarette and other things that will kill me." Louis winked as she took a sip from the wine bottle, ignoring the two glasses in her hand.   
  
"Oi! Look who finally decided to join us," Grimshaw said as he saw them entering the upper floor.   
  
"Sorry, darling!" Louis said back as she lighted up a cigarette, "Man, nothing beats cancer."   
  
"That's not the saying." Aiden said from her left.   
  
"So what have you guys been up to?" Harry asked as she drank her beer.   
  
"You reek of sex, you little minx," Aiden said to Louis as Harry and Nick engaged in a conversation about some new and upcoming indie band.   
  
"When don't I?" She winked back.   
  
"Nah mate, your perfume is filled with cigarette and sarcasm."   
  
"Didn't know that sarcasm had a smell, thank you for enlightening me." She kissed him quickly, returning to nursing her wine.   
  
"Bet you taste like dry humor and death," Aiden said as he drowned his vodka redbull.   
  
"Wish you know, don't you? Oi Haz, this twat said I tasted like death is that right?" She shouted to gain her attention.   
  
"You taste like fucking hell, mixed with satir and self hatred on top," harry made the V-sign and let out her tongue.   
  
Louis clasped a hand over heart, "Babe, that's the most romantic thing you've ever said to me."   
  
She wiped a fake tear away, and went down on one knee, "I adore you, Harry Edward Styles, with your fucked up life and disturbingly optimistic yet cynical way you see shit in; and jesus if I don't love the way you flick your tongue, babe fucking marry me." She said dramatically, this was probably around the tenth time one of them had confessed their undying love for each other.   
  
"Finally something to celebrate tonight! Order in some shots, we have some new wed here!" Nick shouted to the bartender, their echoing laughter as soundtrack.   
  
  
  
Louis is perfect, as per usual. The chandelier and candles making beautiful shadows on her high cheekbones and her casual ponytail.   
  
They; she, her mother and father, were waiting for Niall to join them for dinner. The only time they ever socialist, if one could even call it that.   
  
"Would you like some wine, Louis?" Her mother ask as she pours up the expensive red wine.   
  
"Yes, thank you." She have her napkin in her lap, her arms -no elbow- on the table.    
  
"How have your day been?" Louis ask as she always does when Niall joins them and they begin to eat the steak cooked to perfection.   
  
Niall doesn't even have a chance to answer before their mother chats away. Jay's favorite subject, herself.   
  
Louis sits still and nod and smiles at the right moments while sipping the wine, and Niall drinking her soda.   
  
"Where are you going?" Their father asked as Niall rises.   
  
"To shower." She says as she puts her food in the trash.   
  
And then the fighting, screaming begins.   
  
Through all their -Niall's and Jay's- tears, through the whole family's screaming match, Louis sits and sips her wine.   
  
She tries with disinterest to solve their problems, never raising her voice nor cries.   
  
"Ah, I have to take this call. The food was delicious, as always." She rises, she's bored.   
  
The whole fighting is still continuing as she takes down a bottle of wine to her room, talking pure filth to Harry in her mic.   
  
She used to defend Niall, but she brought this on herself. It's just the same repeating screaming matches about how Jay hit her once when she was fourteen, how their father is always away on business and have the devil eyes; about their drinking habit, to god knows what.   
  
Louis' bored, she have already heard it all a million times, why the fuck doesn't Niall just sit down and take it. It's so much easier.   
  
"Not everyone can do it like you do it, Louis, some people still have fucks left to give." Harry said back after she had cum, and Louis really should stop talking about her life while their are facetiming fucking.   
  
"I'm not actually apathetic or indifferent like you seems to think, I still laugh and enjoy life babe." She laughs into the phone, swallowing it down with wine.   
  
"You do have a problem of making everything into a joke, though." Harry says as she angles the camera to a perfect picture of her smoking inside her shitty room.   
  
"I know right, I'm fucking hilarious. I have something you don't have, humor." Louis blows a kiss into the camera.   
  
"I have something you don't have, human emotions, such as crying or anger." Harry resort with a wink.   
  
Louis slaps a hand over her enormous chest, "Beat a woman when she's down! Such a gentleman, Styles."   
  
"'When she's down', I have never seen you down, baby." Harry lights up another of her disgusting black devils.   
  
"I think you saw me down under you just some nights ago." Louis smirked as she groped her breast.   
  
"Oh babe, let me make you moan again." Harry said husky as she sat down her cig.   
  
"Your dirty talk needs help," Louis laughs as she hears footsteps down the hall, and hides her wine bottle and glass behind her sofa as usual.   
  
"Ah, the screaming on your side is just such a turn on." Harry deadpans.   
  
"Thought you had learned to ignore it, babydoll." She said as Niall stormed into her room with tears in her eyes.   
  
"Why the fuck aren't you up there fixing it? Now I know how much I mean to you!" She shouts before closing her door with too much force, and Louis could still hear her sobbing.   
  
Louis sighed, "Have to take care of this, bye." She made an obnoxious kiss to Harry before ending facetime and drowned her glass in one go.   
  
She went to Niall's room, where she was sobbing loudly.   
  
"Hey, wanna go for a smoke?" Louis asked, "Or we can go to the bathroom and open one of the windows. We can smoke and open up, talk about our feelings and fight over the best pokemon like old times." She said with a hand on her shoulder.   
  
Niall shrugged her hand of, "Is everything a fucking joke to you? Did you even hear what they're saying up there?" She asked.   
  
Louis can clearly hear all the screaming and fighting between her parents. Maybe it was a rhetoric question.   
  
She nods anyway, "You deserve so much more, Niall. Fuck whatever they say, don't listen to them.”   
  
She would hug her, but she also knows that the other girl hates to be touched. Eric fucked her up too much, and Louis still want to kill him even four years later.   
  
It’s unbelievable how harsh and strong Niall is on the outside, while so fragile on the inside.   
  
It’s unbelievable how innocent and frail Louis lis on the outside, while so apathetic on the inside.   
  
Louis shrugs with her, “I’ve just bought some new strawberry hookah taste, no mary, just some chill smoking and beer?”   
  
They are outside in five minutes, sitting in one of their many smoking spots. They are ignoring reality, just for today; they say everyday.   
  
They don’t speak, they already know everything. They just drink their beer and smoke. Pretending, pretend. Niall is back to her usual cheerful self as she answer phone calls, texts, snapchat, and all that.   
  
Louis counts that as a win, as she continue to ignore reality for the starry sky, her cancer sticks and trash metal playing through one ear.   
  
And in that night, where they didn’t exchange a single word yet got heavily intoxicated, everything was fine.   
  


  
**II.v: I’m not as though as you drunk I am**   
  
What’s a no between friends, really. Niall sits on the edge of the pool, smoking too many cigarettes with music in her ears. She can’t really hear it, too lost in her thoughts.   
  
A no is just so casual and easy, if someone ask you to buy another round of shots. No. Ask if you want to go on a date. No. Take coke. No. If you want to join on a shopping spree. No. A road trip to nowhere. No. Have sex. No.   
  
No.   
  
What’s a no between friends.   
  
  
  
**III: On your way towards unknown lands**   
  
She can't fucking feel anything, so she pukes it up. It was a stupid first mistake, really, trying to feel agony and sadness through broken throat and acid reflux.   
  
It's disgusting. She's addicted. Her right hand soon have a scar on it from where her teeths hits. Later she barely have to use her hands.   
  
Legs spread, stomach turned, stomach dance. One, two, three, vomit.    
  
It works best with red wine, the perfection in itself. She can't handle it at all, used to the slight lower in percentage white wine; but red. Red colors everything's so beautiful.   
  
Red, her favourite shade; the red which lies between true love and blood. The scarlet red colors on her arms, her puke. Her favourite.    
  
Louis finally feels something. It's better than strangling, she found a new love outside her alcohol.   


  
  
Louis never really got romance novels. It doesn’t have anything with her disbelieving in love, it is just the way they write everything. How their soulmate knew everything about the protagonist, better than themselves; how they knew them like the back of their hand after only three days.   
  
Harry and Niall was the closet she had, yet no one knew her like she knew herself. How could they, when she’s keeping half herself away from them both.   
  
Yet the romantic books keep romanticise and sprousing nonsense how their perfect one knew them better than themselves. It’s bullshit. Sure, Harry may know of some of her habit like playing with her necklace, her left eye closing when she genuinely laughs, but Harry doesn't know her; like she don't  know the real Harry.   
  
She never really got romance novels.   
  
Because who in their right mind would reveal their inner broken self to someone.   
  
  
  
Louis haven’t been called in for work today, so she have just been chilling at home all day, drinking some wine, smoking too many cigarettes and just started on the broken empire trilogy, when Niall got home. It was an early day for her, so she was home around three.   
  
And of course, the first thing she did was complain about something to their mother, how she didn’t do anything.   
  
You would think by now Niall should have learned to shut up and don’t start anything. So Louis did what she always did, she put in her headphones, started up Disturbed’s latest on spotify and smoked her electric cigarette with vanilla flavor.   
  
“Is that it?” Niall asked when Jay went out for a smoke, and Louis paused her music.   
  
“What?” She asked, continuing to read. _A Dark time comes. My time. If it offends you. Stop Me._   
  
Prince Jorg really was a best protagonist, just the perfect kind of villain and vengage.   
  
“I said, why the fuck are you just sitting there, ignoring everything? Why aren’t you defending me, you really do show me how much I mean to you.” Niall said, with that kind of emotional manipulation she always does. Louis kind of feels bad for Zayn -- if Niall had a special talent, making herself seems like the victim would be hers. Well sure. Niall is a victim, just like she is; and everyone else in their fucked up generation.   
  
“No, no. It just didn’t seems like my fight. And honestly, haven’t you learned by now to shut up and sweep everything under the rug,” Louis continued to read, and fuck if she didn’t start to fall in love with Jorg.   
  
“See! That ain’t fucking normal, and I am done pretending to be a perfect happy family. Why can’t you see that everything is so goddamn fucked up in this family, why aren’t you doing anything?” Niall voiced her thoughts.   
  
Louis looked at her, her gaze drifting away from her book into Niall’s identical baby blue eyes.   
  
“I do realise that our family is completely, beyond repair, fucked up. Yet, as we are now we don’t have any choice than to take all shit and ignore the fights. What do you want from me, I will always be on your side, I just don’t see the point in raising my voice and argue.”    
  
Niall sneered, “See! This is exactly it, we can’t stay quiet. Do you think they’ll stop fighting and drinking if we do nothing? No, so we have to say something.”    
  
Louis blinked tiredly, as if both of them haven’t tried that for two years already. “I am tired, and I don’t wish for fighting. So I’ll shut my mouth, something you should learn to do too.” It was harsh, she knows, but it was the truth.   
  
Niall never seemed to see outside their bubble of fucked up family problems; but if she could, she would realise that every family had their problems. It was just to accept and move on.   
  
“Is that your solution? To sweep everything under the rug, to ignore our, my, problems?” Niall asked, tears starting to form in her eyes, before she ran to her room.   
  
Louis didn’t say anything, she already knew Niall story, and she was bored of how she repeated it, how she used it to justified all shit she put their parents throught.   
  
What the fuck ever that Jay hit her once when she was 14. She have apologized enough times, so why did Niall constantly bring it up?    
  
And how she spoke about their fathers demon eyes when he was drunk. Louis didn’t get why she still repeated it, still took it up like it was just for her. For fuck sake, Louis have seen them too.   
  
She neither seemed to get that every broken bone and teeth their parents have were inflicted by eachothers. They are toxic, and Louis’ so scared she’ll become them.   
  
But Niall was that kind of human that have grown up with the whole world revolving around her, and she was still stuck in that mindset.   
  
Louis shrugged once again and started to read her book.    
  
Niall will complain later at dinner, she knew. So she just wished for some silent time, with her mother outside smoking, her father in Italy, and In Flames in her ear.   
  
She didn’t get why Niall was so emotional, and she so cold, indifferent. It was in these kinds of moments she was envious of her, how she could cry, how good she was at manipulate people.   
  
Louis wanted to cry and scream too. When their father laughed in her face when she confessed she tried to take her life; she wanted to cry when her mother denied her psychologic help ‘cause she wasn’t fucked up enough.   
  
But in reality, she shrugged it all of. It stayed in the back of her mind like everything else, but she didn’t have the emotional capacity to actually care.    
  
She sighted and closed her book, she’s fine.   
  
  
  
**IV: And I became sick, became that shadow of me you see**   
  
It's 14•c outside and Louis is outside smoking in her hoodie.   
  
August the 18, 03:47 and the summer is about to end. Usually she would never be out in this weather, it is after all cold; but with all the wine turned soberness rushing through her in the still night she pretends everything is alright.   
  
The girls are at some summer cottage Sophia owned, away from the city just across some beach, and the stars are shining so beautiful.   
  
They've had a lovely night involving pussys, drinking games, drawing and watching porn. Simply a lovely girls night out at the summer cabine.   
  
Yet, at around half past three she were outside with Eleanor and they talked.    
  
Louis knew their wine date at one was only for show that night, but she didn't want to pressure.   
  
"I want to talk to everyone about it," El had said when she had dropped the hint.   
  
And well, Louis respected that. "When we go to sleep, then?" She asked carefully.   
  
"Yeah." El smiled sadly.   
  
Louis made a point of talking about everything that made her happy, extending stories with different voices to make her happy.   
  
And when they were all falling asleep at their small camping chamber, around two at night, Pierre opened up about this older man she was seeing.   
  
Louis supported her with Sophia, talking about their situations and trying to help.   
  
"Will you shut up? I'm trying to sleep." Pierre's voice rang through.   
  
Eleanor stopped to talk.   
  
Sophia went to bed.   
  
Louis still whispered how good she were but was met with silence. She sent a text to her, _love, you wanna chat more?_   
  
Some times later she heard Eleanor go out.    
  
She didn't return for ten minutes, and well. Some puking didn't take that long.   
  
Louis went outside, finding her smoking.   
  
"Hey," she said.   
  
El ignored her.   
  
"You want to talk? I know you wanted to share with everyone, but I hope I might be good enough company." She chuckled.   
  
"No, I want to be alone now." She said as she smoked. Louis could understand that.   
  
"Chill. I'll take a hit over there then." She smiled softly and took the lighter on the table.   
  
"No you can sit here, I'm going in." El muttered, walking inside without looking back.   
  
Louis nodded to her back. Eleanor was everything but alright right now, but if she wanted to be alone, she will get her silence.   
  
She lighted up, she knew the feeling of wanting alone, so she stayed outside for a while.  Louis walked around the yard, still in her bikini panties and the hoodie she had thrown on when she walked outside.   
  
She wasn't drunk, it's 14 degrees and she really should feel cold right now. It's weird, but lovely.   
  
Some half hour later she goes inside with her ice cold legs to get herself some wine.   
  
She finds Pierre sitting in foster position by the fridge, her legs held up tightly to her chest. She looks absolutely ruined, broken; fucking destroyed.   
  
Louis ruffles her hair and takes out the wine, "I'm going out, you wanna join? Just like usual, no one talks and just smokes." She smiles.   
  
The older girl shakes her head.   
  
Louis goes out with her wine. Everyone is so beautiful destroyed, she thinks as she hear Eleanor sob.    
  
It's 04:13. 13•c. Why isn't she freezing.   
  
_I miass yuo,_ she sends to Harry.    
  
She wonders why she's still living, still alive. She is Pierre, hugging herself under the fridges; she's Eleanour that tells everyone to shut the fuck up. She's Sophia who gives advice. She's herself who drinks wine at four a.m. and can't fucking feel anything.   
  
_Make me feel something_ , she tries again.   
  
_ Is love even real?   
  
Telll me   
  
I want ro know everything about you   
  
Is this worth worth living?   
  
I wnat to feel love   
_   
Louis never makes smart decisions at night, but she wants to know, she wants to know everything and nothing likes she's so good at acting as.    
  
Yes, she wants to know nothing. Erase everything.   
  
  
She wants nothing or all. There’s no between. She wants to fucking die with golden flowers thrown at her grave, stolen black painted roses put on her stone year in and out.    
  
But there wouldn't be anyone there to put the flowers in the right position, if she dies her friends die with her,and Niall will join in.   
  
If she dies everyone around will too.   
  
Louis goes back in and to sleep after she had finished to wine bottle -- why isn’t she feeling anything.   
  
  
  
“Long night out, eh?” Harry says as Louis enters her apartment.   
  
“Didn’t even text me back, you are the worst.” Louis pouted as she shrugged of her coat and made way to the other girl's bedroom.   
  
“Have I ever told you how seductive you are when you completely avoid my kiss and just straight up ignore me?” Harry asked as she follows her.   
  
Louis takes of her dress, leaving her in white hipster panties as she lays down on Harry’s bed, “No, but now I know.”   
  
“You’re such a bitch, acting like I don’t matter,” Harry starts to kiss down her neck and breast, “Yet at four in the morning I get texts from you, the one you think about.”   
  
Louis breath hitches as Harry starts to cup, massage her nipples, leaving a trail of love bits on her throat. “Say, aren’t I the most important one for you at this moment?” She twist her nipple harshly, which _unfair,_ she knows how weak Louis is there.   
  
“Hell yeah you are, you’re the best with your tongue.” Louis moans out, it isn’t what Harry asked for, neither was she redirecting the question.   
  
Harry laughs, throwing her head back and goes into her wardrobe, “That mouth of yours,” She muttered to herself.   
  
Louis smiles when she sees what Harry comes out with, her favorite pink double strap on.   
  
“Tonight I’m not going to teach you love,” Harry says as she binds her wrist to the bedrest, “I’m going to fuck you up.” She tells against Louis lips as she blindfold her.   
  
“And I’m going to love every moment of it?” Louis asked with a slight smirk, opening her legs as if a challenge.   
  
“Well, I wouldn’t be your fuckbuddy if I couldn’t even make you forget your own name, now could I?” She ask hypothetical as she kisses Louis cheek.   
  
And after hours of Harry exploring Louis body, she someway felt like herself, like someone. So she moans when Harry twists her tongue just the right way, wails when she fucks her.    
  
Harry fucked into her, her own end of the strap-on vibrating inside of her, with harsh trust, leaving Louis gasping; her hips bucking up, chasing her third orgasm of the nights.   
  
“I fucking love you,” Harry grunted and took a hold of Louis throat, cutting of her air flow with experience hands, “Fuck you.” Harry continue to maim Louis prostate.   
  
Louis tried to get words, moans, out, but she could only gasp for non existing air as her orgasm hit her and cleansing around the toy.   
  
Harry took away her hand from her throat, allowing her some precious seconds of air before strangling her agains. Like always, saving herself the grace from not getting any _“I love you”_ back, and saving Louis from answering.   
  
It was dysfunctional, but it was their special moment. It’s fucked up, but they are fine.   


  
  


**IV.v: it’s a lot like life, this game between the sheets; forget all about equality  
**   
  
_ “If I asked you now,” Louis hummed the tunes as she sings, pressing down a c chord to b, “Will you be my prince, will you lay down your armor,” There’s barely any piano in the intro, but Louis voice is so captivating.   
  
Harry can’t look away, can’t help but stare the way Louis’ throat moves as she swallows, can’t help but to see her long eyelashes clung together and her hands moving to the right keys without the need of sight. “When you open me, all the power in me moves.”   
  
Harry watches as she continues to sing and play, until the bridge comes and she opens her eyes, she sees how fast her fingers moves on the keys, in such a rabid fashion she can’t understand. She can’t understand, she can understand everything. Her dialed eyes know everything and nothing.    
  
“There’s a strange love inside,” she shouts out while she presses the piano keys, hitting them harder than she usually would, pushing them down with a force of nothingness and allness, “It’s getting louder and louder and louder,” She repeats the word and play over and over until her voice is hoarse, “There’s a danger I couldn’t hide!”   
  
“I’m so fucking in love with you,” Harry says as she hugs him from behind. She presses herself up against her, in a desperate need of inspiration. Louis continues to sing and play, ignoring Harry's soft sob at her neck.   
  
If anything, she sings louder, her voice reaching notes she didn’t know she could take, “It’s who I am, who I am, It’s who I am.”   
  
“I’m in love,” Louis sings, and sings and sings, the violin part of the song vibrating her abused vocal chords as she plays the keys in a fast fashion, missing the notes here and there.   
  
_ _“We’re just two men in love.”_   
  
It comes a time when Harry’s 19, when he starts to question all her memories. She lies in her bed watching Louis sleep and takes a drag from her cigarette.   
  
She wonders if the dream he just had was a memory from old times, maybe years, maybe days. Time is starting to blend together. She wonders, what is her memories and what is fabrications from her drug induced mind and half dreams.   
  
“Did we sing and play piano together?” She whispered to Louis, her Lou, her everything.   
  
Louis nods mumbles out a “Sure,” before going back to sleep. Harry watches her sleep, sees the the love of her life.   
  
  
  
**V: My power reserve’s ending, like the belief of an interfering God**   
  
She’s sixteen, and it’s the first time she’s going to be separated from Niall during school time.   
  
“Hey, why does no guy ever like me?” Louis asked softly to Niall one night, entering her room as she was watching big brother.   
  
“No one ever talks to me, I have never been on a date. I don’t think I’m ugly, or is my body that bad? Is my personality that ugly?”    
  
Niall took a hold on her, hugging her tighter to her body, “No, you are not ugly. Anyone would kill to be with you.”   
  
Louis broke down, sobs leaving her body as she cried into Niall's shirt, “Then why doesn’t anyone want me? You have had like 5 boyfriend and fifty fucks, I have no one! Fucking no one!” She shouted.   
  
“No one dares to invite you out because you are too divine.” Niall said against her long brown hair with blond ombre, flowing around her like some halo.   
  
“I just want someone to love me.” She whispered brokenly to her, sharing her secret.   
  
“I’ll always love you.”   
  
“And I will always love you too.”    
  
The twins held each other tight, like it was the end of the world. It wasn’t -- it was just the end of their reality as they knew of it.   
  
  
  
She sometimes thinks back, wishing that they problems was still so silly as to be loved and trouble in paradise.   
  
Or maybe they grew up and they were the only big problems they had, and they are just handling responsibility really badly.   
  
  
  
She have just become eighteen and she have her friends, she have her rumor in school. Two whole years without Niall.    
  
It hurts, it hurts so much, why are girl like this; why are Leila creating cruel rumors, why are all boys so disgusting. This is not how she was used too, and if anything it was a rude awakening.   
  
It was weird -- she was one of the more experienced girls, yet she was the most innocent. Every weekend they were partying, boy behaving like pigs, girls acting like whores.   
  
Disgusting.   
  
Everything was becoming grey, bland. Boring.   
  
Boring.   
  
Ah, how disgustingly boring life is. Is this all, Louis would find herself think either at three p.m. or a.m., is this it. Is smoking, drinking, hanging out with friends; gossiping about lies and stress writing about some french poet long dead her life. Everyone's life.    
  
And she’s back at square one. Everyone feels like her, like wanting more, yet staying at the same boring pace with the same interesting people, drinking, smoking, fucking.   
  
Everyone’s the same. How utterly _boring._   
  
  
  
Louis can't stand, just stumbling around screaming, laughing; the high percentage shitty polish vodka bottle in her hand spilling out on the road.   
  
“A classic party scene, crowded and interesting!” She shouts out the lyrics, Eleanor at her side. They’re both holding each other up, walking left and right, stumbling back and never really going forward.    
  
“You look ridiculous! But the heels matches your shirt,” she giggles in her chest, pointing down at her glitter pumps Louis’ wearing, her heel outside and she can barely walk.   
  
“No,” Louis falls down on the road, “You look ridiculous!” she’s wearing her adidas shoes, way too big for her small feets.   
  
“Ah, I can’t believe that we got kicked out of the club!” El shouts, as if their stripping and hooker dance was just to the everyday at a club. Or maybe it was the coke they took on the toilet. Or that they fucked the owner's kid. Probably the last one.   
  
They can’t even remember where the fuck they are. Too high and wasted out of their minds.   
  
“Uber?” Louis giggles out as she lights up a joint.   
  
“Next club!” Eleanor answers, pointing to a shady bar ten feets down.   
  
Louis laughs, “Next club it is!”   
  
  
  
It’s three weeks later, and she’s mourning the death one of her best friends. A overdose, “So sad to see one so young gone”, “So sad that she went down the route of drugs”, and all that.   
  
A overdose feature self hatred and no reason to life.   
  
Louis laugh at her grave and throws a dyed black rose on to the red ones, like she was always singing about. “See you down in hell, babe.”   
  
She swear she hears Eleanor's spirit talk to her, seducing her to join her.   
  
  
  
**VI: I give in to sin, ‘cause I like to practise what I preach**   
  
It’s the first time she have ever held a blade and knife to her wrist, it _burns_ , it hurts so much. Why would anyone do this to themselves, to cut themselves, she wonderes.   
  
It hurts. The razor blades she have just bought and her sharp knife from their expensive kitchen cuts up her left arm. It’s blood everywhere, she’s in the shower sitting cross legged at the drain, just so it would be simpler to clean.   
  
To clean up all the mess she have made.   
  
She cuts down _down stream_ as good as she could - but it nevers gets enough blood out. So fuck it, she cuts diagonally hoping to get out enough blood. Two liter is enough, she have read. The door is closed and the window is open as she lights up a cigarette. She wants to die.   
  
She cuts down deeper, there’s blood on her feet, on her hands, legs, arms, bra. There’s blood everywhere.   
  
Why isn’t she falling asleep, why isn’t she dying.   
  
She cuts, cuts, cuts but it isn’t enough. She knew she should have bought some of that blood thinning medication before, no matter how hard it was to get. She’s bored of waiting.   
  
Ah, why can’t she just die already.    
  
  
  
Niall is at Zayn's like usual. She hated to be home, her parents were constantly fighting and she could never get any sleep. She fucking loathed it there, and damn if she wasn’t proud over Louis for staying there all nights.   
  
As proud as she were, she was jealous. Louis never got shit from their parents, she was so perfect. She wanted to be Louis, she didn't want to have any problems.   
  
She threw the cig to the ground and went back to her lover's arms.   
  
  
  
Niall came back at one, having skipped her last lesson.   
  
“How early you are home.” She said as she saw Louis sitting in her sofa with her mac, wearing her big fluffy shark jumper.   
  
“Didn't feel well.” Louis said back, smiling.   
  
Niall nodded back, “Same, cheers, what’s your plan for the weekend?” She asked as she stripped herself from her bra.   
  
“I don’t know, probably meet some of the Grimshaws, you?” Louis takes on her coat and heads out for a smoke, “Join me!” she calls back.   
  
Niall shook her head and went out with her, and they talk and everything’s fine.   
  
  
  
“You’re skinnier,” Harry remarks as she opens up her ipa.   
  
“New diet.” Louis shrugs, still too out of it after all her orgasmes.   
  
“Alcohol and cynical views?” She guesses.   
  
“Sure babe,” Louis blows a kiss in her direction, and silently commands her to join her on the bed with a crook of her finger.   


  
**  
VII: Five steps back, two forward; in a small distance it looks like dancing**   
  
“Have you ever just drank the same wine for so long it have lost it taste? It’s just bland and boring.” Louis asked Harry as she lighted up a cigarette.   
  
“Like you, you mean?” Harry teases, taking a fag from her pack. That was the best with fucking in Harry’s small room - the ability to smoke straight after.   
  
“Rude,” Louis said with an eyeroll, “Here, I need to teach you how to pretend you’re classy.” She handed her a bottle of white from her backpack.   
  
“I have beer at home, so I fail to see why I should drink this.” Harry said dryly.   
  
Louis shrugged as she smoked, “I have red for myself, that’s just a present for you.” She pointed towards the white Harry was holding with her cig.   
  
“Wow, way to make me feel cheap.”    
  
“Sorry, I’ll bring you champagne next time.”   
  
Harry laughed, “Fuck you and get out.”   
  
“Good luck on your exams.” Louis said as she opened the bottle and drank from it, bringing it with her towards the other girl’s small bathroom.   
  
“Join me,” she swayed her hips as she entered the small bathtub.   
  
  
  
“What are you supposed to do in life?” Harry asked as she entered the small bathtub.   
  
“Pass on your genes, that’s everything when it all comes down to it.” Louis shrugged and lighted up yet another cigarette.   
  
“So if I just leave some of my eggs at some research center, I am done?”   
  
“Basically, innit it?”   
  
“Eh I guess in the end, yeah.”   
  
They sat in silence as they sipped their wine and smoked in the too small bathtub, playing footsie and thinking about better times.   
  
“So why are you alive?” Harry asked Louis.   
  
“Drinking, smoking, fucking and music, I think.” Louis shrugged.   
  
Harry laughed, “You aren’t alive, you are just not dying.”   
  
“It’s the same in the end.” Louis moved until she was sitting on Harry's tights, “No one has a reason for living, everyone just pretends and smiles, shrugs it away.”   
  
“Shrugs what away?” Harry asks as she took a hold of her wrist, kissing her neck teasingly.   
  
“Shrugging away the feeling of doom and agony, we drink and fuck away our feelings little by little.” Louis kisses back, letting her hands drag down the other girls muscular stomach.   
  
“That’s just you, you are just bored and wants to pass time.”   
  
“And yet you are the same, trying to find something to help you pass your time until death comes.” Louis traces her breast, feeling the way all bubbles slides up and down her body as she rises and falls down, rutting against Harry's tight.   
  
Louis kisses her tenderly, “Or until you takes fate by your hands and decide your own death date.”   
  
  
  
**VII.v: You carry on like a holy man seeking redemption  
**   
Zayn sits on the bed and holds Niall's hand. “Who did this to you?” He ask.    
  
Niall crooks her head to the side, “Did what?” She ask back, taking of her shirt and reaching for his zip. “Made me this awesome?” She laughs with him.   
  
“Who fucking ruined you?” Zayn takes ahold of her hands, stopping them from touching him, “Who broke you?”    
  
“Probably my rapist. Or my abuser. Maybe my parents.” Niall still looks so cluelessly at him, “Why do you ask? You already know my story, you’re always there when I break down and cry. Why would you ask once again?”    
  
Zayn frowned. He guessed he already know everything. “Yeah still. Everything's chill? Cried at the phone last night.”   
  
Niall takes of her jeans, “Yeah, but it was just the same old bullshit once again. I wish I could ignore it like Lou, but instead I go up and confront them.”   
  
“And it always ends in shit don't it.” He ask rhetoric, “Never any solution.”    
  
Niall kisses him on the neck, scratching his head, “Never. And Louis doesn’t even try to help. I’m so done with it honestly,” She rolls her eyes, “She could at least try.”   
  
Zayn nods as he hold her close, “She should try.”    


  
  
**VIII: Won’t anyone here let you disappear**   
  
She’s looking around her room. It’s pretty -so disgustingly pretty and innocent and beautiful and naive, and, and, just everything she was, maybe is, and it’s such a clash against her personality. Louis loves it, oh how she's in love with her pink and white walls and big beige carpet.    
  
Two windows with gorgeous white linen hanging down, angeling wings between them and a big televish under them.    
  
It’s cute. Her sofa is white, her wardrobe pink, her bookshelf white, her bed is pink.   
  
Pink and white. And candles and plushies. Cute, cute, cute.    
  
It’s her. Yet not at all.    
  
She still adores it.    
  
“Your room is so fucking weird.” Liam said and scrunches his nose, “Last time I was here you still had the whole red carpet.”   
  
“Last time you were inside my room, we were thirteen and you fucked me.”   
  
“Yeah, what about that? Why are we always meeting at clubs or home at me nowadays?”    
  
“Because of this.” Louis said and pointed a finger up to the second floor, where Niall was screaming at her mother once again.   
  
“Ah then you brought me here to get your mind of it.” Liam smiled.   
  
Louis shrugged, making way towards her bed. “Are you up for it?” She brings out her cheap polish vodka, the blue jenzen they had drunk the first time they slept together.   
  
“You continue to seduce me with alcohol and I’m all your, babe.” Liam gazed at her hungrily. If it was at her see through shirt or vodka, she will never know.   
  
  
  
“Why don’t, can’t, you do love Louis?” Liam slurs out, it’s five in the afternoon and they’ve already finished a bottle of white and moved on to a rosè. Louis closed her eyes, he knew did was coming.   
  
“I don’t see love around me like you do. My parents are in an abusive, toxic relationship, I don’t want to be like them.”   
  
Even with her eyes closed he could feel Liam's hopeful gaze, “You aren’t you mother or father, you’re yourself. You would never hurt anyone purposely, you’re lovely.”   
  
Liam is in love with her, he knows. he wonder how he can’t get that he isn’t one for the romaric angle.    
  
“Love is something made up by humans, when we got intellectual enough to understand we needs something more to keep us from getting bored.” Louis said instead, filling up her glas.   
  
Wine is always the answer, he thinks as he fills their glasses. She’s fine.   
  
  
  
  
She isn’t even sure what’s circulation in her veins, some red and white wine, scotch maybe vodka. Everything blends together.   
  
  
  
Louis have turned all thoughts over and under in her head, right to left, looked at them from different angles and stopping, repeating again.   
  
Every thought she have had, she have already thought a million times.   
  
She feels something for once, for the first time. It’s a small ache. A ache for something.   
  
  
  
  
“Do you think I should go and get help? Sometimes I’m happy, but I haven’t really gotten better since I sliced up my wrists.” Louis said to Niall.   
  
Niall nodded, “Do it. I can’t handle losing you.”   
  
“Hm, it’s just - last time I asked for help, mum said I wasn’t fucked up enough and dad laughed into my face. I don’t have a reason for why I feel like this. Your life is so screwed up, you’re the one who should feel like this. You’re so strong, I envy you.” Louis continued.   
  
“You’re stronger, Louis, it’s just that you have some mental illness.” Niall hugged her, and tears was forming in her eyes.   
  
She frowned, “I guess.”   
  
Louis walked upstairs and took out a bottle of wine. She’ll be fine.   
  
  
  
“We’re a piece of work, our beloved father shouting ‘how I should just kill myself’ and how much of a disappointment I am. Then you try, and he laughs you in the face. It’s perfect, innit?” Niall ask, frowning at the beer in her hand.   
  
That’s where they’re different -- Louis would have laughed, made a joke, ignore it. Niall feels it all, Niall is a fucking trainwreck.   
  
  
  
“You don’t get it, I’ll die If I continue to live in this house,” Niall said to her, walking around in her room while texting people, looking for someone to go clubbing with.    
  
Louis crooked her head to the side, “I do get it, I tried. Don’t you remember?”    
  
Niall sighted, “I know, fuck I’m sorry. It’s just -- You don’t even _try_ to do anything against this shit, just letting it happen. If I stay in this house anymore I will blow up, I’ll become fucked up.”    
  
“Well, they’ve made us into a pretty good work of art.” Louis sat down on his bed, opening up a beer and handed it to her, “And I get what you mean. Alcohol is the poison here, twisting them and making them into people we don’t know.”   
  
“Fuck. I know, I just. I can’t stay here. Look what they fucking did to you,” Niall started to rant again, drinking her beer.   
  
“You can’t feel sadness or anger ‘cause you’re so afraid of turning in to them. They fucked you up big enough to ignore basic human emotions, and same with love. You say you’re pansexual, but you can’t even look at girl in the right way, you’re so fucking afraid of becoming our parents.” Niall continues.   
  
Louis nods, “Well, you’re torturing yourself by being with that Zayn, she ain’t good business. She’s bringing you down. You’re completely beyond repair fucked, can barely sit still a day without feeling anxiety, can’t handle to be alone.”   
  
“We were better when we were sixteen and only knew of drugs and alcohol. We’re nineteen and knows ourself inside and out, knows our weakness and strength. Mostly we just know that we got fucked over by our parents; and while you try to do something about it I stay still where I am.”   
  
“Fuck, we need to move.” Niall throws herself on the bed and turns on her phone, seven people are down to go out later that night.   
  
“I know.” Louis says and drinks her beer. They are so fucked. They are so fucking fucked.   
  
There’s nothing for them, they’ll stay in the same rich shitty neighbourhood and turn into their parents, turn into monster.   
  
She’s too tired to fix it.   
  
  
  
“Do you want to hurt, I do, I do, then hurt me,” Louis sings, her body moving, _flowing_ , to the indie music playing out of Harry’s shitty vinyl player. The sounds is enclosed, bad, but Harry loves her ratty old player.   
  
“I want a lover I don’t have to love,” she continues to dance and sing around in the small living room, spilling wine on the cheap ikea carpet, adding yet another mark, spot to tell another story on it.   
  
“You are gorgeous, you know that.” Harry says, asks, as she sips her garden of eden ipa.    
  
Louis smiles back flirty, “Come and get this pretty thing then,” and laughs. She drinks, she laughs, she dances, she never acknowledged Harry’s compliment.   
  
Harry joins in with her intoxicated laugher. The sun is shining in through the closed blends, it’s one in the evening and they’ve been going since sunrise. The taller girl looks at her Louis, her best friend and fuck buddy. Fuck buddy sounds so distant, cold, more like comfort seeking.   
  
Yes, as Harry looks at Louis, she thinks that it’s the most fitting. Comfort seeker. Louis’ dancing with an half empty beer glass filled with red wine in Harry’s too big sweat pants, her large breast bouncing with every step she takes. She looks like a wreck, the leftover of yesterday makeup making her dark circles even more clear, and her messy ponytail with baby hair sticking to her forehead.   
  
She’s a perfect fucked up, Harry thinks as she looks at her.   
  
“Hey, will you join me or not?” Louis ask with a wink, teasingly dragging the sweat pants down.   
  
God, Harry loves her.   
  
The room is a mess, Harry’s small living room slash kitchen, the furnitures pushed back so Louis could have room for dancing, the table filled with leftover weed and coke, clothes just laying around.   
  
It’s shitty, it’s everything Harry have ever wanted. It’s perfect, it’s fine.   
  
  
**  
VIII.v: Just like animals, we crawl out of our cages**   
  
She’s losing it completely. Maybe she was a bigger wreck than Niall.   
  
She is worse than Niall.   
  
**  
  
IX: Nothing holds any value, except the memories of what we had**   
  
They are at some shitty part with Harry’s friend mixed with hers. Niall's over with Liam dancing around like idiots.   
  
“Don’t you want to join?” Nick murmurs against his joint. Louis never really got why he would chose weed and other drugs over wine and cigarettes.   
  
“I’ll join when Du Hast comes on, or some ten hours youtube shit song.” She responds, her cigarette unlit teases her at her lips. “Light or cigfuck?”   
  
Nick laughs as he bows down to her level to light her cigarette with his joint, “Or barbie girl.”   
  
Louis takes a long drag, closing her eyes as she feels the nicotine become one with her lings, “Never forget barbie girl.”   
  
“Or any other songs, baby I’ve seen you dance like a stripper when you have enough alcohol in your system,” Harry says as she joins them by the fan in the kitchen, lighting up her strawberry black devil.   
  
“Ah yes, when I am intoxicated enough to forget I can’t dance!” Louis laughs and falls into Harry’s embrace.   
  
Nick joins in laughing, not that it’s particularly funny, rather they all are pretty drunk or high. “When you finally dance, you dance like a whore shakin’ that bum darling.”   
  
“I resent that!” Louis said back, hiding her giggle behind her hand.   
  
“Shouting out all the correct lyrics too! While Harry might sing like some siren, when she’s drunk she sings like a fifty something old alkis, but you, _you,”_ Nick points a finger at her, “actually sound good.”   
  
Louis throws her long hair over her shoulder, “I sound lovely drunkenly singing out love stories I can’t give two shits about eh?”   
  
“But babe!” Harry gasps, “Are you saying you don’t believe in love?”   
  
Harry puts a hand on her chest in an over dramatic way, “I’ll have you known, I think Mr.Gray and Ana had the _most_ perfect love,” of course it is the most beautiful love, it is after all a best seller.   
  
“Cheers to their abusive rapist love, what our modern society is looking for!” Nick toast, which they all soon join in.   
  
  
  
“What do you live for, surely not yourself. No one lives for themselves, we are all just living for the people surrounding us. Say, are your people and family worth living for?” Louis says to Nick over a beer, killing her cigarette in an old bottle.   
  
“Are the people around you privileged enough to have you left here on earth?” Harry agrees drunkenly, pointing a finger at him.   
  
“Or should you move on, leave this filthy world filled with shitty people?” Louis continues on.   
  
Nick’s laughing as he drowns his pretentious named wine, “To die would be an adventure, to be picked up by Peter Pan!”   
  
Harry looks disgusted at him, “You are no child, how dare you not know the story of my childhood.”   
  
Louis join in the laughing, “Oh yes, Nicolas how dare you not quote correctly!”   
  
“Your childhood is shit love,” Nick reminds her, as if she could ever forgets it.   
  
“I know, but that’s fine.”   
  
  
  
**X: How could you love something barely alive  
**   
Niall isn’t home as per usual, always with her douchebag boyfriend Zayn. He’s trash, the best work he will ever get is some fabric or warehouse shit.    
  
Louis will admit that they do look good together, both perfection like a god or goddess. They are the iconic beautiful couple.   
  
She does get what her twin sees in Zayn - objective speaking he is gorgeous. But he’s not one to stay steady with, as he is an idiot.   
  
Niall could get so much more.   
  
But, Louis get that Niall is pretty messed up from previous relationship that she settles for what she thinks she deserves. Which, this should be the moment Louis comes in to saves the day.   
  
But -- she have tried. And she’s tired. She’s so goddamn fucking trying to fix relationship that was never meant to be.   
  
“The food was lovely.” She tells her parents as she rises from the table. There’s piano music playing from the speakers trying desperately to cover her parents screaming match.   
  
She goes down to her and Niall’s floor - the best with living in a large villa on top of a mountains.   
  
Louis drinks large amount of water before she goes to her room to do fifty push ups, to make her stomach jumpy, before going to her beautiful white marble bathroom again.   
  
Her mirror stares back at her as she drinks even more warm water to bother her throat, her own broken reflection staring back at her. She looks tired with her dark circles under her eyes and chipped lips drinking the water as if it was her only source of food.   
  
Stomach dance, spitting and her head goes back and forth. She stares into her own eyes as she manipulate her throat and stomach to throw up - she’s getting better, almost puking out food before needing her fingers again.   
  
Louis hovers over the toilets as she vomits, the delicious thoroughly chewed entrecôte and potatoes coming up. She have long ago stopped question whenever it was the raw meat, wine or blood that tilted her stomach emptying red.   
  
This was all common occurrence in all stories and songs, but everyone failed to tell about the red rimmed eyes from tears, about the puke in the nostrils making the smell last longer. They didn’t say how even after brushing your teeth your stomach will still have acid reflux.   
  
“I look like a fucking wreck,” She says as she drinks water and breathes in water through her nose. She washes her face and applies foundation and powder to hide her rosy pale cheeks and blue color bags under her eyes.   
  
She sprays the bathroom with ocean spray, before leaving for her regular after dinner cig. She ate a toast to lunch and drank black coffee through the day. It’s enough.   
  
She’s fine. The screaming continues and the police are getting called.   
  
Everything’s fine.

  
**  
XI: In my dream you’re holding my hand**   
  
Louis sitting on the toilet with her feets popped up on the bathtub Harry’s lying in. She’s looking at her arms, her wrist that will forever be scarred in that pink and white.    
  
It hits her as Harry breathes out the cancerous smoke through her nostrils and she sips her wine, _When was the last time I, we, had any contact with the outside world._   
  
She’s thinking about her previous conversation with Niall, her so lovely twin she could barely be without years ago, last conversation a week ago.    
  
Louis laughs maniacally, crazily, and in novels and movies she would sob and feel the reality coming down but she fucking _can’t_ and jesus she’s so messed up and - “We fucked each other over, we’re god damn toxic to each other,” She want’s to cry but she can only continue to laugh.   
  
Harry looks at her from the bathtub, a eyebrow raised in question.    
  
“Am I in love with you?” Louis asked, still giggling to herself. Harry is her everything, she realises.   
  
The other girl joins in laughing, “Babe, you don’t know love.”    
  
Harry smiles as she crooks a finger for Louis to join her in the bathtub, thinking of everything she’ll do to her with her finger.   
  
Louis smiles as she joins her in the bathtub, thinking of how much she fucked her up.   
  
As their bodies becomes one, she thinks of the young Harry she had met who had barely touched alcohol and was hoping to find her soulmate. She thinks of her Harry who have barely left her room since their three days intoxicated weekend.   
  
Harry was in love with her in the beginning she realises, and she also realises that she’s in love with her; now, when she have completely ruined her ability to fall in love or live.   
  
But it’s fine.    
  
If Harry could love Louis, she can love Harry.   
  
Everything’s fine.   
  
(For the first time in two years times, she cries)   
  


**Author's Note:**

> At which point did you recognize yourself in?


End file.
